


Don't Give Me That Crap, It's My Birthday!

by Pineprin137



Series: Dirty, Messy Winchesters [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Birthday, Birthday Cake, Biting, Brothers, Bubble Bath, Coffee, Come Swallowing, Coming Untouched, Coprophilia, Crossdressing Kink, Dean has a soft side but don't tell Sammy, Dean would probably consent if he knew, Desperate Dean Winchester, Desperation, Dom Sam Winchester, Eproctophilia, Farting, Horseback Riding, Licking, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Manipulation, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Meat Man Dean Winchester, Messy, Naughty, Naughty Sam Winchester, Not necessarily consenual?, Omorashi, Panty Kink, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Rimming, Sam Winchester Loves Health Food, Scat, Semi-Public Sex, Shower as a toilet, Sneaky Sam Winchester, Spanking, Sub Dean Winchester, Surprises, Swallowing a load on an empty stomach is not a great idea FYI, Teasing, The Impala (Supernatural), Use of laxatives, Vacation, Vomiting, Watersports, Wet & Messy, Wetting, big time, light - Freeform, not in a bad way, scat play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:34:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23815450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pineprin137/pseuds/Pineprin137
Summary: Dean decides to treat Sam for his birthday this year, but Sam has a few ideas of his own...
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Dirty, Messy Winchesters [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1715845
Comments: 15
Kudos: 108





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: HEAVY scat play ahead! I'm definitely delving deep (no pun intended) into one of Sam's fetishes that I hinted at in the other fic. 
> 
> There will also be some omorashi/pee stuff, but the majority is scat because apparently, that's what Sam is in the mood for.

For Sam’s birthday this year, Dean decided to give his brother a real vacation. He booked a nice room at a lodge, packaged up a tray of homemade avocado brownies, and drove them up to the mountains. Dean isn’t too fond of the rough terrain on his baby’s tires, but Sam loves the fresh air and raves about the view so he thinks he made the right choice. 

When they pull onto the road that will take them to the lodge, Sam gasps. 

“Dean… Is this really where we’re staying?” 

Dean nods. “Absolutely. Thought my little brother deserved to stay somewhere nice on his birthday.” He glances over at Sam before asking, “Do you like it?” 

Sam turns to him with wide eyes, “It’s…  _ incredible _ … Thank you.”

He resembles the innocent little boy with shaggy hair Dean still remembers so vividly. It takes his breath away. The flood of emotion is unexpected and he tempers it down by giving a curt nod. 

“Sure thing, bitch.” 

Being Tuesday, the parking lot is fairly empty. There’s an old but well-kept truck, a few sedans in various colors, a minivan, and at the very end of the lot, sits a bright orange Mustang. Dean sneers at the sports car as he eases Baby under the roof of the entrance. 

“Who the hell would pick a hideous color like  _ that _ for a car?” He asks Sam as they walk into the building. 

Sam, who was taking in every inch of the architecture he could, quickly glances over his shoulder.

“Wow. That is one bright car.” He shrugs.

“A bit much for my taste, but hey, everyone has their own style-- ” 

“ _ Style? _ Ha! The owner of that obnoxious monstrosity wouldn’t know real style if it bit ‘em in the ass!” 

Sam sighs and crosses his arms. “And let me guess, you do?” 

Dean gestures with his hands as he talks, “My baby is a machine built with nothing but style and class. Her frame is sleek, her color simple yet sophisticated.  _ Baby _ is the car  _ other cars  _ dream of being.” His green eyes grow wistful as he talks about the Impala and Sam fights the urge to roll his eyes. 

The Everton Lodge looks like it was  _ made _ for the Winchesters. Every inch of the interior reads like a welcome sign for two boys who have spent their lives living on the road. The main room’s dark oak floors are accentuated with sturdy furniture covered in plaid fabrics and minimal pillows. The handmade rug in front of the roaring fire would be a perfect spot to discuss a case or just enjoy a cup of coffee while chatting. The check-in desk is a long wooden counter that spans almost the entire left wall. It’s made of the same wood as the floors with delicate carvings along the bottom. There’s a small bell to  _ ring for service  _ and a short woman with blonde hair standing behind it. She’s framed on either side by a mounted moose head and a large black bear standing on two legs. 

The woman smiles when the two hunters approach the counter.

“Hi there, I’m Margie. How can I help you, fine-looking fellas, today?”

Dean’s eyes drop to her ample cleavage, his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. He clocks her ring finger - _ bare _ \- and gives her a slow smile.

“Well, Margie, my  _ brother _ and I need a room for the next week.” 

Sam noticed when they walked in that there is only one computer in the room, he watches curiously while Margie digs through a pile of papers until she unearths a tattered notebook. Realizing it’s an authentic guest register, he smiles. 

She flips the pages until she finds a blank one and writes the date at the top in elegant cursive. While Sam is taken by the graceful movement of her hand and beautiful penmanship, Dean is more interested in the way she bites her lip as she writes. 

“One week exactly?” Margie asks when she looks up. 

Dean smiles and leans against the counter.

“One week exactly.”

Margie gives him a tight smile before turning to Sam.

“We have three room options available for your stay. There’s a cozy room here on the first floor that has two queen beds. A larger room just above the breakfast area that has a king with a queen-size pull-out  _ or _ our double king suite. I’m guessing you  _ tall  _ boys would prefer the last option?” 

Sam nods, grateful that he won’t have to spend the next seven days crammed into a room made for the average-sized person. “That would be great, thank you.” 

Margie chuckles and writes down the information from the card Dean slides over. 

“I think you two will enjoy having the extra space and it’s an east-facing room so you’ll have a lovely view of the sunrise from your balcony. We aren’t expecting any snow until later in the week so I recommend enjoying it while you can.” 

She hands two keys over to Sam along with a small brochure of activities available in town and the schedule for breakfast and dinner. 

“We serve breakfast from seven to nine and dinner from six to eight. It’s not mandatory that you join us in the dining room but many folks really enjoy the relaxed atmosphere and the home-cooked meals. If you need anything, I’m here from eight in the morning to nine in the evening. The desk is manned the rest of the time by two local college students.” 

Margie retrieves their receipt from a small machine under the counter and asks Dean to sign. He does. She gives him back his card. 

“You boys are in room three-fifteen. If you drive around the right side of the building, there’s a door that leads to the stairs. Up the stairs to the third floor and then it’ll be the second door on the right. If you need anything, you can call down to the desk from the phone in your room.” 

The brothers thank her and head back to the Impala. Dean drives them over to the suggested parking area and whips Baby into a spot near the door. They grab their duffles from the trunk then climb the stairs up to their room. 


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing Dean does is head for the bathroom while Sam wanders around the room. The view from the balcony is breathtaking. 

The lodge is located about ten miles from a small lake and from here Sam can see all the way to its still waters. There are pine trees in every direction, their scent permeating the air. He takes a deep breath and rests his elbows on the railing to enjoy the scenery for a few minutes. 

While Dean uses the toilet, he glances around the small bathroom and smiles. It’s exactly the kind of place Sammy loves. It’s warm and cozy, without being too over the top or chintzy. It feels like you’re staying at a friend’s cabin in the woods instead of in a lodge filled with other guests. The color palette is muted with pops of deep red and tons of plaid. It feels more like home than any other motel they’ve stayed in. 

The bathroom is magnificent in his opinion. 

The large tub looks big enough to fit two comfortably, there’s an adjustable showerhead that he knows Sam will appreciate, and none of those godforsaken towels that are only big enough to cover half of your body. The toilet paper is firm but not scratchy and the faucet barely squeaks when he turns it on. 

“Sammy?” 

Sam turns at the sound of Dean’s voice and smiles at him, “Dean, this place is incredible. The view alone is worth the eighteen-hour drive.” 

Dean shrugs, “If you say so, nature boy.” 

He stands beside his brother, closes his eyes as he breathes in the fresh air. It’s nice and crisp, a welcome break from stale motel rooms and the windowless rooms of the bunker.

“It’s a little after five now. If you want a shower before we head down for dinner, you may want to get to it,” Dean informs Sam as he walks back into the room. 

Sam lingers for a few more minutes, not wanting to leave the serenity of the balcony just yet then follows his brother back inside. 

By the time they make their way down the stairs and over to the dining room, both of their stomachs are growling and Dean has finally found one thing to bitch about…

“I mean, what kind of place doesn’t have a TV! It’s barbaric! What do they expect us to do for the next seven days? Sit outside and drink coffee?” Dean grumbles as they walk down the hallway. 

Sam pauses outside of the doorway and fixes his brother with an annoyed stare.

“Dean. You can survive without a TV for one week. You’ve done it before. Remember that place in Rochester? The one with the mattress you wouldn’t let me sleep on? It didn’t have a TV or a radio and yet somehow, here we are.” 

Dean huffs, “That’s not the same! That place was a shithole. We knew that it would be lacking in certain… amenities, but this place? This place is  _ nice _ . It serves you dinner and breakfast in an  _ actual _ dining room, the room keys are  _ keys _ , and the view is top-notch. The least they could do is provide a TV so a guy can enjoy the time spent in his room!” 

They enter the room side-by-side and inwardly groan when they spot the two remaining seats at the table. One is on the far left near a young couple and their toddler while the other is at the opposite end between two ladies that look so much like Sophia and Blanche that the boys both do a double-take. 

Sam pats his brother on the shoulder and heads over to the Golden Girls look-a-likes. Dean grits his teeth and begrudgingly walks over to the empty seat next to the four-year-old boy.

The food is served by Margie and a young man in a white coat who is introduced as Darren. At first, Dean scoffs at the Food Network wannabe but by the end of the meal, he’s a believer. There is a choice of soup or salad to start, Dean chooses the French Onion soup while Sam opts for the salad.  _ Shocker _ . 

Dean lifts the spoon to his lips, blows gently before sliding it into his mouth. The broth is warm and comforting, the cheese melting into it before he swallows. The hunter selects a piece of crusty bread from the basket in between him and Michael, the toddler’s father. He dips it into the soup then takes a bite. 

“Oh my god...” he moans, his mouth full. The little boy immediately tries to copy Dean which leads to his mother, Julie, chastising him quietly. Dean ignores them in favor of devouring the rest of his soup and half the breadbasket.

“For the entree tonight we have roasted chicken in cream sauce with a side of roasted potatoes, squash, and green beans,” Margie informs the room as she and Darren bring in the first set of plates. 

Sam is blown away by how tender both the chicken and vegetables are. He quickly finishes his plate. 

“My! You must have been hungry!” Blanche  _ (My name is Rosalie, but everyone calls me Sally, dear.) _ says with a chuckle. 

Her companion tsks before placing a wrinkled hand on Sam’s forearm. 

“Now, Sally,” she says, “he’s a growing boy. Of course, he was hungry!” 

Sam tunes out their light-hearted bickering and instead, glances at the end of the table where Dean is sitting. He expects a glare or even an obscene gesture, so he is rather surprised to see his brother’s head ducked down, conversing with a toddler. Sam squints. They seem to be discussing the toy car held in Dean’s hand very seriously. The little boy’s brow is creased as he listens intently while Dean explains the different parts of it. Sam smiles, happy to see his brother having a good time. 

“Now for dessert tonight, we have a real treat! We were informed earlier this evening by one of our guests that someone is celebrating a birthday tonight! Though we were told he or she wishes to remain anonymous, we couldn’t help ourselves from making a little something special.” 

Darren comes through the kitchen doors with a three-layer cake on a platter. He sets it down on the buffet table to slice into it. Margie then spoons a little bit of berry compote on top and delivers one to each person seated at the table. Sam blushes when he catches Margie giving his slice an extra helping of the berries and looks over to see Dean’s smirk. That only makes him blush harder so he drops his head down and fiddles with the napkin in his lap instead. 

Dean is  _ very _ pleased when Darren brings out the cake. He feels reassured that he did the right thing telling them about Sam’s birthday. Of course, Dean knew his brother wouldn’t want to be singled out so he requested they not share who it was for. Margie did an excellent job of keeping it mysterious. Hell, she hadn’t even shared the gender! 

The cake itself is quite an unusual confection . It is a two-tiered cake covered with a layer of vanilla buttercream so sheer Dean can see each layer through it. The top is adorned with an artful array of blueberries, strawberries, and raspberries which trail down the left side of the cake. The entire thing is lightly dusted with powdered sugar and Margie even had a large bowl of warm berry compote to go with each slice. 

After their lavish dinner, Sam and Dean enjoy a cup of coffee in front of the fire before going up to their room. The birthday boy decides to test out the large tub while Dean starts up a movie on Sam’s laptop. 

The cabinet next to the bathtub is full of various products to enhance the bathing experience. There are three different sizes of loofas and a handful of soft washcloths on the top shelf, a wide selection of bath bombs, bubbles, and essential oils on the middle shelf and the bottom shelf has a bag of Epsom salts and two large candles. 

Feeling indulgent, Sam fills the bath with hot water then adds a scoop of Epsom salt as well as a few drops of lavender and verbena. He places one of the large loofas on top of the cabinet and borrows Dean’s lighter so he can light the  _ Home _ candle. 

Once it’s ready, he slides into the water and relaxes, laying his head on the soft cushion attached to the edge and closes his eyes. He breathes deeply, inhaling the scented air and holding it in his lungs before slowly exhaling. 

Sam has only been in the water for about twenty minutes when there is a knock on the door. 

_ “You almost done in there?”  _ Dean asks through the door.

He doesn’t open his eyes to answer Dean’s question, “Not really. What’s up?” 

Dean hates to interrupt his brother’s alone time, but he is getting pretty desperate. He’d noticed a slight heaviness in his gut while they were enjoying the fire earlier and planned to take care of it when they got back, but then Sam announced he wanted to take a bath so Dean held off. 

Now, though, the feeling is much more urgent. Dean’s been fighting the urge to push for the past fifteen minutes and he isn’t sure how long he can hold on. 

When Sam indicates that no, he isn’t getting out anytime soon, Dean sighs, “ _ Crap _ .” 

“What’s up?” Sam asks. 

“... I need to take a shit.” 

A thrill runs up Sam’s spine at Dean’s confession. He masks his arousal with annoyance. 

“Right now? Can’t you just hold on for a little while longer?” 

Dean feels the tip of something peek out of his hole, he clenches his ass to coax it back in. “Not really,” he says, truthfully.

Sam submerges the loofa, drags it over his skin: up his chest, down his arms… in between his legs. The netting tickles his flesh and his cock twitches. Sam wants to explore the new sensation but he hears his brother fart wetly on the other side of the door. 

“How bad?” he asks innocently

“ _ Bad _ . Sammy, you know if I could hold it, I would...” 

Sam weighs the pros and cons. 

Pro: he will get to see Dean mostly naked, watch as Dean’s muscles work to excavate his rectum, hear those delicious grunts, and the relieved moan at the end. 

Cons: Dean will definitely stink up the entire room, his bathwater will turn cold. 

_ Decisions, decisions…  _

Sam smiles mischievously. “Alright, Dean. Make it quick.” 

The door opens then shuts as Dean enters the room.

The elder Winchester changed out of the jeans and nice shirt he’d worn for dinner and is now in a pair of grey sweats and a Black Sabbath tee-shirt. 

He quickly shuffles over to the toilet and lifts the lid, then slides his pants down to his ankles and sits. 

Almost immediately, Sam hears a splash. 

Sam leans back in the bathtub and closes his eyes, drinking in the varied sounds of his brother’s desperate shit. 

Dean leans forward, rests his forearms on his knees, lightly clasps his hands. Sam picks up the abandoned loofa and trails it over his stomach then back down to his semi-erect cock. He’s pretty sure Dean wouldn’t notice if he jerked off, but he doesn’t want to take the chance. 

There’s a quiet grunt as Dean massages his belly. Sam doesn’t hear the near-silent hiss, but he does recognize the following odor. 

He breathes it in even as he complains aloud, “Jesus, Dean! That reeks!”

The elder Winchester blushes but rolls his eyes. “I can’t exactly help it, Sam.”

Sam plays along, pretending to be disgusted while his erection grows beneath the water. 

A loud plop breaks the silence. Dean curses under his breath, “ _ Ugh. Fuck me. _ ” Oh, if only, Sam thinks, imaging the smooth glide of his cock into Dean’s dirty asshole. 

“Need more fiber…” he muses aloud. He buries the head of his cock deep into the loofa, twists his wrist. The texture teases his flesh and he almost cries out. He stills his hand. 

Blissfully unaware of his little brother’s actions in the bath, Dean concentrates on pushing. A large log pokes out but retreats when he takes a breath. Grunting, he tries again. 

This time, about half an inch breeches his rim. He grits his teeth and really bares down. The long piece of shit slides from his ass with a loud crackling sound then finally falls to the water with a quiet splash. Dean feels one last bit hanging on so he squeezes his hole until it finally drops. He releases a loud sigh of relief then tucks his dick between his legs. 

The sound of his brother pissing does it. Sam thrusts into the large loofa and comes. He bites down hard on his lip to stifle his cry. The water ripples as he jerks his hips, milking himself through the intense orgasm while listening to the sounds of his brother cleaning up. 

He wants so badly to bury his face in Dean’s crotch, kiss his tender hole, inhale the foul smell still coming from his perfect ass. 

Dean wipes his ass then flushes and walks over to the sink to wash his hands. 

“Sorry ‘bout that. I’ll let you get back to your bath now,” Dean says as he leaves. He makes sure to leave the door cracked so Sam won’t be suffocated by the lingering odor.

Alone once again, Sam sighs. He wishes he had gotten to see the result of Dean’s hard work before it got flushed away. Suddenly desperate to get his hands on his brother’s dirty ass, Sam stands up in the tub, grabs a towel. He dries himself off then wrings as much excess water from his hair as he can. Wrapping the towel around his hips, Sam walks into the bedroom. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bow-chicka-wow-wow! 
> 
> *waggles eyebrows*

Dean is sitting against the headboard with the laptop on his stomach. When Sam exits the bathroom, he rolls his eyes. After removing his headphones, he huffs.

“Geez, I didn’t think it was _that_ bad!” 

“Dean, shut up,” Sam orders as he crawls onto the bed and moves the laptop onto the nightstand. Dean opens his mouth, but Sam silences him with a look. “I mean it, big brother. One word and I will make you regret it.”

Dean scowls and crosses his arms, but Sam catches the glint of lust in his green eyes. Dean will play along. 

Sam kneels on the mattress before removing his towel. He doesn’t move his eyes from Dean’s. “Get on your belly,” he orders, “Don’t talk unless I say.” 

Dean nods and crawls forward so he can lower himself onto his still-somewhat-full stomach. He burps softly as he rests his cheek on the mattress. Sam positions one knee on either side of his brother’s body, supporting himself on his arms. He lowers his head until his lips brush the back of Dean’s neck then slides his sweats and underwear off. Although he tosses the sweats aside, he drops the underwear by his knee. 

Sam starts at one side of Dean’s neck, flattening his tongue against his brother’s skin before licking a wide stripe all the way across. While the trail is still damp, he gently blows on it, smirking when Dean shivers. With a shaky sigh, Dean’s blunt nails attempt to claw at the bedspread. 

Lowering his hips so that the tip of his cock touches the small of Dean’s back, Sam rocks back and forth, inching his brother’s shirt up until he can tuck it under Dean’s armpits. 

He begins to move in earnest, but the few drops of pre-come leaking from his dick aren’t enough though. Pausing to let out a frustrated breath, Sam reaches down to tease his cock and gets an idea. It takes a few moments of palpating his bladder until he can coax a small spurt of piss out. It isn’t anywhere near enough, but it’s a start, he thinks.

Dean sucks in a sharp breath when he feels the warm liquid pool in the dip of his back. 

_“... Sammy?”_ Dean mumbles when Sam doesn’t move. 

Sam grins slowly. He’d been hoping his brother would break the rules at some point... “ _What_ did I say about talking?”He growls, happily shoving Dean’s face into the mattress. 

Although he enjoys punishing his brother, he doesn’t want him to suffocate as he has many more plans for tonight-- so Sam releases his hold on Dean’s neck after only a few moments. Coughing, Dean sucks in a desperate breath. 

Sam trails his fingertips over the sensitive skin of his brother’s back. Leaning forward so his cock drags through the piss, he asks Dean, “Going to be quiet now?” Having learned his lesson, Dean nods, breathless. 

As Sam increases his pace, he scoots further down, until his cock is firmly wedged between Dean’s buttcheeks. He pauses there, his dick squeezed beautifully in the crevice of his brother’s ass. 

“You know what I’m going to do to you, big brother...” Sam says, prying Dean’s cheeks apart so he can see the tight pink pucker. He can just make out a few brown smears marring the rosy flesh. He groans before leaning down to whisper in Dean’s ear. 

_“I’m going to finger fuck your dirty hole.”_

As soon as he finishes saying the words, Sam plunges two of his long fingers deep into Dean’s ass. Without the aid of lube, his brother grunts loudly... but he dutifully refrains from speaking. 

Sam slowly teases the inner walls, scissoring his fingers so he can feel leftover shit squish between them. Pulling them out, he holds the warm digits under his nose and breathes deeply before wiping them across Dean’s left buttcheek. It leaves a nice gooey smear on his pale skin and Sam smiles before slipping his fingers back inside. Sam figures he could come just from the delicious squelching sound alone, but he grips the base of his dick with his free hand to hold off.

“Mmm, love it when you get all messy for me, baby,” Sam purrs, speeding up his thrusts until he finds Dean’s sweet spot. He presses down hard, Dean cries out. Although it isn’t technically speaking, Sam pulls free to leave a dirty handprint on his ass anyway. The firm smack brings Dean closer to the edge and he spreads his legs further apart. 

Sam teases him for a while, painting Dean’s ass with smooth, silky brown before brushing over his prostate and then removing his fingers completely. When Dean begins to squirm, he orders him up on his hands and knees. 

Dean shakily rises. He feels something wet tickle his ball sac and looks back to see Sam’s head between his legs. His brother’s mouth continues to lick and suck while his talented fingers prod around Dean’s hole. A few times, the tip slips in, but when Dean pushes back to try and encourage Sam to delve deeper, they pull away completely. About the _sixth?… tenth?… fifteenth?_... time Sam brushes over his prostate, Dean loses control of his bladder. A few unlucky drops make it onto the bedspread before Sam’s lips close around his cock. He takes Dean in all the way, settling his pissing cock in his throat. He swallows all of it, the contraction of his throat making Dean jerk with pleasure. 

Once his bladder is empty, Dean gets a familiar feeling and spreads his legs even wider. He checks over his shoulder to make sure he’s positioned directly over Sam’s crotch. Knowing Sam likes it better when he puts on a show, Dean inhales slowly then gives a loud grunt as he starts to push. 

His pupils dilated with intense lust, Sam spreads Dean’s hole with his pointer and ring fingers then gently pushes his middle one inside. By the time he’s up to his second knuckle, he can feel it. Soft, but not so soft that his finger would disappear inside it, the log kisses the pad of his finger before hiding away again. With the next strenuous push, Sam feels the contraction of Dean’s sphincter and he moans, his free hand traveling to his cock. 

Dean can feel it right there, sitting in his anal canal, just waiting for the green light. But instead of jumping right to the finale, he reaches back to pull his right buttcheek away from his hole. At the same time, he shifts his body so the air trapped behind Sammy’s birthday present can escape. 

A bubbly fart breaks the silence in the room. Sam immediately leans up on his elbows so he can shove his face towards the place of origin. Slightly warm, fetid air teases his nose and he can’t help the desperate jerk his cock gives. So close… 

The mound of shit oozes forward, squishing out around Sam’s finger. It plops wetly onto the base of Sam’s cock and his hand speeds up, spreading it around as he jacks himself off. Brown warmth wraps around his dick yet it still falls, cascading from Dean’s ass like thick muddy slime. The last little bit clings to his hole, dangling there, just waiting for Sam to collect it on his finger and slowly ease it back inside. 

Sam pants as his orgasm approaches, playing with the warm mush between his legs, coating his cock in it until it’s completely covered. 

He removes his hand from Dean’s hole and instead, uses it to slide over his brother’s thick shaft. 

Just as Sam is about to shoot off into oblivion, Dean’s body decides to have away with the returned turdling and erupts in a loud fart. It rockets out of Dean’s dirty hole to skim across Sam’s thigh before falling onto the bed. 

Dean breaks the rules for the second time when his cock spews thick white onto his brother’s face. “ _Oh!_ Oh god-- _fuck_ , _Sammy_! _\---There! Yes!”_

With a long low grunt, Sam’s dick follows his lead. Ropes of cum splash onto his stomach and chest, dripping down to mix with the warm shit still covering his groin. For a little while, all he can do is lay there, panting as Dean’s abdomen clenches above him, ushering out the last few drops of his cum. 

Dean drops his head to stare at the man underneath his body. “You gonna move anytime in the near future there, Birthday Boy?” The muscles in his arms are shaking as he struggles to hold himself up. 

Sam opens his dazed eyes. “Hm? Oh, right, yeah,” he mumbles, awkwardly wiggling towards the end of the bed so he can go clean up. He definitely needs a shower. As he enters the bathroom once again, he glances back just in time to see Dean collapse on the bed looking deliciously debauched. 

As he lies next to Dean half an hour later, no traces remaining of the evening’s activities, an idea starts to form in his head. They still have six days left and he knows exactly how he wants to spend tomorrow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, at this point, this is all I have written so far. So, I have no idea how many chapters this will be. 
> 
> Also, like my first fic in this series, I have to be in the right mindset to write this so it could take me longer. 
> 
> If you were brave enough to read this, please leave kudos :)


	4. Chapter 4

“I’m sorry-- you want me to do  _ what? _ ” Dean balks, sticking his head out of the bathroom. Minty toothpaste drips onto his bare chest as his mouth gapes. 

Sam blushes where he’s sitting on their bed, buttoning his shirt. He avoids his brother’s eyes, suddenly shy under Dean’s scrutiny. He doesn’t mind taking a dump on Sam, but he minds  _ this _ …? 

“Nobody will even know, Dean,” he cajoles, standing and walking over to him. He slides his arms around Dean’s back, ducks his head to lick the dribbled toothpaste. “It’ll be our little secret…” 

When Dean hesitates, he bumps his morning wood against him, teasing the length of it along Dean’s hip. His brother groans though he hasn’t moved an inch. Finally, his eyes flick to Sam and he chuckles darkly. “You’re one kinky sonofabitch, you know that?” 

Sam kisses him sloppily, smearing a trail of minty white across his chin. “I learn from the best.” 

Of course, Sam is the one who finds the little boutique tucked into a corner of the town but not so far that the tourists who come through can’t chance a quick glance of deep pink satin curtains framing a large bay window with scantily clad mannequins. The flowing script on the window reads  _ Madame Nicolette’s Lingerie Emporium _ . Sam thinks it is quite a mouthful, but he can guess why she refrained from using some of the more…  _ enticing _ descriptors. 

When they walk inside, a beautiful dark-skinned woman with her black hair pulled into a decorative updo welcomes them. 

“Hello, welcome to The Emporium. How may I help you gentlemen, today?” 

She assesses each of them in turn. Sam, she only gives a few moments of her attention. But Dean… Her deep brown eyes slide over the hunter’s jean-clad thighs, taking in the faint outline of his cock before she continues up to his chest and eventually settles on the man’s somewhat-nervous green gaze. 

“Are you looking for something in particular?” Nicolette says this looking at Dean, but somehow they both know she’s addressing Sam. 

“Would it be alright if we look around? He’s not sure what he wants.” 

“Of course,” she purrs, “let me know when you’re ready.” Nicolette’s hand rests on Dean’s arm while she searches his eyes. 

It unsettles Dean, someone who isn’t Sam so close to him. He swallows before taking a half-step closer to his brother. 

After Nicolette and her floor-length red satin robe walk away, Sam wanders through the store, touching frilly lace then sensual silk while Dean trails along behind him. Sam can practically feel the unease coming off of Dean. 

Trying to break the tension simmering beneath the surface of his brother’s carefully constructed facade, Sam picks up a pair of yellow lace crotchless panties, checks them over thoughtfully. 

Dean is still glancing warily around the small store when his attention is caught by the bright yellow scrap of lace in his brother’s hand. 

“Oh,  _ hell no _ ! You want me to wear a pair of panties, fine. But I refuse to stuff my dick into a sunshine doily!” 

Sam calmly places them back down on the table before turning to his brother. “What  _ do  _ you want, hm?” He steps behind Dean, wraps his arms around his waist. Settling his chin on Dean’s shoulder he asks, “If you could have anything in here... what would it be?” 

Dean shuffles nervously though he leans back into Sam’s embrace. After a few minutes, he starts bravely walking along the shelves of pretty delicate things. Sam’s breath catches in his throat. He’s seen his big brother in numerous states of undress in all kinds of undergarments-- Everything from ratty boxers to embarrassingly tiny short-shorts to nothing at all-- But just the thought of Dean strutting around town with a naughty pair of panties on under his mud-stained jeans makes Sam’s head feel fuzzy. 

“I’m gonna have to try them on.” 

Sam’s brain misfires.  _ Oh, God… _ He suddenly hopes Nicolette doesn’t mind if he goes into the dressing room with his brother-- you know, for  _ support _ . 

“Uh-huh...” he says, swallowing nervously. 

Dean doesn’t seem to notice that Sam’s struggling to form a sentence. “Why don’t you go get Madame Naughty Bits,” Dean says over his shoulder, “and ask her for one of the rooms.” 

So many thoughts are rushing through his head that Sam can only nod, stumbling off to find the proprietor of the shop. 

With Sam no longer hovering over his shoulder, Dean grips the three not-really-underwear in his hand and wanders over to the mannequin by a table decorated with fluffy slippers. Thank God Sam isn’t trying to put him into  _ those _ \-- he would hate to have to break his little brother’s nose on his birthday… 

The mannequin stands about three inches shorter than Dean when he isn’t wearing boots. It’s soft fabric shoulders are encased in a sheer black robe that falls to just above the knee. The cuffed edges of the bell sleeves are trimmed with a black velvet so soft Dean fights the urge to rub it against his face. 

Glancing over his shoulder to make sure his brother isn’t back yet, Dean reverently touches the see-through material, sliding it across his fingers, wondering what it would look like on a body worn rough and hard by life on the road... 

“Find something you like?” A warm voice purrs behind him. 

Dean spins around, feeling like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. The mannequin wobbles on its stand. He reaches out to right it before answering Nicolette. “I, uh… maybe?” 

Nicolette tilts her head, taking in the large man’s measurements. “Why don’t I grab one in your size and bring it back to the dressing room? Then, you can decide whether you want to try it on or not…” 

“Uh, o-okay. Yeah, sure-- that’s...great. I’m just gonna be...over...there,” Dean stutters, clumsily weaving his way through the displays of scantily-clad mannequins. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees Sam. 

Walking up to him, Dean grabs his brother’s hand and drags him into the prepared dressing room. It’s a little tight for both of them, but Dean doesn’t care. 

“You make any smart-ass remarks or try to get me to model for you out there,” Dean growls, nodding past the heavy red velvet curtain, “and I will kick your ass. Got it?” 

Fighting not to smile when he realizes exactly how serious Dean is, Sam nods. 

“Good. Now, git.” Dean roughly shoves him out of the small cubicle so he can get this over with.

Sam chats with Nicolette while he waits for Dean to get up the courage to show him what he looks like covered in barely-there chiffon and peek-a-boo lace cutouts. 

He learns that she opened her shop back in the eighties when people were a little less conservative with their style. The revival of risque clothing saved her from going out of business a few years ago and since then, business has been good. 

“I’m not coming out--” Dean yells from behind the curtain. 

Sam crosses his arms, rolls his eyes at Nicolette. “Oh, come on, Dean. I’m sure you look great.” 

“I don’t care. I’m not coming out with my junk on display. You wanna see-- you have to come in here.” 

“Oh, alright,” Sam concedes, slipping into the dressing room. “... oh, wow…” 

Dean looks hilarious with his arms crossed over his chest, a scowl on his face, and a pair of lace-up boy shorts on. 

He grimaces at his reflection before turning to Sam. “I look  _ ridiculous _ .” 

“No, you don’t. You just look…” Sam tries to find a kind way to explain that his brother’s dick looks like a string-wrapped sausage. “...  _ uncomfortable _ .” 

Dean huffs, “Yeah, well, that’s ‘cause I am! How do chicks where this shit? I feel like I’m gonna flop out...” 

Taking a seat on the minuscule bench along the wall, Sam chuckles. “I’m not sure you  _ won’t _ . Be careful bending over.” 

“ _Why_ _did I agree to this!_ ” Dean bitches as he shoves the too-small underwear off. Sam gets a little distracted by his brother’s thick cock swinging only inches from his face. 

After hopping around on one foot and glaring at Sam when he dared laugh at the spectacle, Dean manages to pull on the next pair. 

“How do those feel?” Sam asks, blatantly checking out his brother’s ass. 

Dean turns around so he can look over his shoulder into the mirror. “My ass looks good in these…” 

“Yes, it does.” 

Dean turns back around with a snort. He reaches down to adjust his dick so it’s laying more comfortably inside the soft black cotton. Sam stands up behind him, wraps his fingers around Dean’s waist. His erection presses firmly against Dean’s cotton-clad bottom. 

“Gotta say… I do like the bright red font. And the flames? Oh, baby...I’m hard just thinking about you sashaying around the bunker in these…” 

“I don’t sashay…” 

“Oh,  _ yes _ \--” Sam punctuates the word with a hard slap to Dean’s ass, “--you  _ do _ .” 

Dean smirks. “So, you’re saying these should go in the ‘maybe’ pile?” 

Sam thrusts his hips forward with a groan. “We’re _ getting them. _ ” 

“Alright, alright--down boy. I have three more to try on.” 

Sam groaned, rolled his hips one last time before settling back down onto the bench. 

When Dean tried on the leopard-print thong, both of them agreed it wasn’t his style, but the french maid style pair with white ruffles and a tiny black bow? Well, Sam loved them, but Dean thought they made him look like a cheap hooker. In the end, Sam purchased them even though Dean didn’t want them-- he’d find some way to force his brother into them and he hoped it would be during his next cleaning binge in the bunker. 

Also in the ‘yes’ pile, were a simple pair of lavender briefs with a delicate pink bow in the front and a plain black thong. 

Just as Dean is about to pull on his jeans, Nicolette’s voice comes from just outside. “I brought you a few things that I think you’ll like-- If you’re interested?” 

Dean’s shoulder sag-- he thought he was free! But Sam shushes him before pulling the curtain back just enough to poke his head through. His eyes survey the items in the woman’s arms before flicking up to her eyes. A feral grin spreads his lips. 

Ducking back into the room, he places the new items on the bench then kisses Dean’s cheek. “Go ahead and try them, babe. I’ll take the rejects back.” 

Dean doesn’t have a chance to open his mouth before Sam is gone. Suddenly feeling awkward now that he’s alone, Dean shuffles over to the small stack his brother left behind. His heart skips a beat when he sees the robe he was drooling over earlier. 

Slipping it on, he turns to the mirror. 

The thin material lays nicely over his body, helping hide a few of his gnarlier scars. When he turns to the side, it lightly brushes against his skin, making him shiver. His biceps fill it out nicely and though it’s short, it’s not short enough that everything shows. 

He feels... _ sexy.  _

Bending over to see what else Nicolette brought, Dean finds a pair of tan-colored crushed velvet underwear. Holding it up, he notices the front of the panties is loose, almost like a pouch. Growing more curious by the second he removes the briefs he wore there and slides the other ones up over his muscular thighs. As soon as their on, he realizes he doesn’t need to adjust. The large ‘pouch’ cradles his cock perfectly. 

“Now, this is what I’m talking about…” he says, checking out his backside. Ooh, he kind of likes the way they look under the sheer robe too. The pairing gives an illusion of nudity, while still letting him feel covered. 

The last item in the pile makes him laugh out loud. Without even trying it on, Dean decides the long tee-shirt with  _ Come and Get it, Big Boy _ is definitely a ‘yes’. 

Walking out of the store with his purchases secreted away in a simple brown gift bag and Sam's arm slung around his waist, Dean's excited to find out what the birthday boy has planned next. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No naughtiness in this one, folks. Just building the anticipation for the next chapter... 
> 
> *rubs hands together* Mwahahaha!
> 
> Update: After re-reading this chapter, I went back and edited it a bit. So, if you notice a few changes, that's why.

While Sam walks right up to the gentle tawny mare, Dean is a little more hesitant towards the large stallion. “Are you sure this is a good idea?" he says, warily glancing at the black horse, "I mean, we could go for a swim in the lake or get something to eat in town…” 

“Dean,” Sam says, stroking his mare’s soft muzzle. She whinnies in response, turning her head towards him. “You said I could pick what we do.” 

“I know, and I meant it. It’s just-- I didn’t expect you to suggest this…” When the stallion stamps his hoof impatiently, Dean flinches.

Sam laughs. “C’mon, Dean-- You can’t tell me that _you’re_ afraid of a _horse_ ,” he cajoles, enjoying the rare chance to poke a little fun at his brother. 

Dean looks over his shoulder with a disgusted sneer. “I’m not afraid, Sam. I’m just… cautious.” 

“Seriously? You’ve faced hell hounds and gods without flinching but a _horse_ makes you nervous?” 

Dean sighs. “It’s big! And they don’t always listen and you know, _excuse me_ for being a little uneasy about an animal that could kill me if I happen to piss it off!” The stallion snorts and tosses its head, seemingly agreeing with the last part of his statement. Dean’s eyes widen comically. 

Realizing that his brother truly is freaked out by the thought of riding the large black horse, Sam walks over to him. Placing his hand on Dean’s shoulder, he says, “Look, Dean, if you really don’t want to--” 

“No,” Dean interrupts. “I can do this. Okay? Just-- give me a minute to get to know Black Beauty here…” He turns to look at the horse and jumps when he finds it only inches from his face. 

“His name is Hercules.” 

“Hercules? Like Greek mythology Hercules?” 

“Uh-huh. And this one--” Sam says, smoothing his hand over the mare’s swollen flank, “is Megara.”

The owner of the stable warned him that because she was pregnant, she might be a bit more unpredictable on their ride which is why Sam decided he should ride Meg instead of Dean. 

After giving Dean a reassuring kiss to his temple, Sam walks Meg a little ways away to mount her. It is a little awkward, and she lets out an unhappy sigh while Sam wiggles around, but once he is situated comfortably in the saddle, she settles down. 

Dean watches Sam smoothly mount his horse with envy. Resigning himself to the fact that there’s no way he can do this without looking like an idiot, Dean walks over to Hercules, grabs onto the saddle horn, and places his boot into the stirrup. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he hoists himself up into the seat. 

Once he's on, Dean keeps his eyes closed for a few moments, getting used to the feel of the large animal beneath him... the impatient twitch of Hercules's muscles, the now-recognizable stamp of his hoof in the dirt, the shallow snort when Dean takes the reins into his hands. 

“Gotta say,” Sam calls out, leading Meg towards the trail they’ll be following for the next two hours, “You make one hell of a cowboy…” 

It takes Dean a minute to respond, and when he does, it's accompanied by his usual cocky grin. “‘You saying you want to see me in chaps, Sammy?” 

Sam eases Meg to a stop so he can wait for Dean and Hercules. When the horses are standing side-by-side, he leans over to whisper in his brother’s ear, _“I don’t know, Dean... Just knowing what you’re wearing underneath your jeans is pretty damn hot...”_

Dean ducks his head, blushing even as his dick perks up inside the lavender panties they bought this morning. Sam made him change into a pair before they left their room, though he let Dean pick. Which, _thank God,_ because Dean couldn't imagine riding on the back of a horse while wearing a thong... 

With a loud chuckle and a quick squeeze to Dean's thigh, Sam nudges the mare to continue leading the way down the path, into the dense forest surrounding the crystalline lake. The scenery here is breathtaking, making Sam wish they could stay.

After about half an hour of riding along the twisty trail, Dean speaks up, “Sammy, hold up. I need to take a break.” 

Sam looks back at his brother. “Okay. There’s a spot up here where we can stop without being in the middle of the trail.” 

After leading the horses over to the small clearing Sam indicated, they dismount. Sam stretches his arms over his head before giving Megara a gentle pat. He softly whispers to her as he rubs his hand along her flank. Dean, meanwhile, has his forehead resting on Hercules's broad back. One of his hands is still grasping the saddle horn. 

Turning away from the mare, Sam finally sees his brother. “Dean?" he says, walking over to him, "Are you alright?” 

_“Dizzy...”_ Dean mumbles while willing his stomach to stay in place.

He's not sure if it's the uneven terrain, the winding path, or the fact that they can no longer glimpse the lake through the trees, but he isn't feeling so hot all of a sudden.

With his arm wrapped around Dean's shoulders, Sam helps him over to a large boulder to sit. Hopefully, being off the horse will help him feel a little better. He offers Dean one of the water bottles from his backpack before opening the other. 

Dean takes the tiniest sip from his then wipes the back of his hand across his forehead. “...thanks.” 

They rest for a few minutes, just enjoying the gentle breeze and the soft noises of the horses. “You think you’re going to be okay to keep going?" Sam asks, finishing his water and standing up. "-Or do you want to head back?” 

Dean shrugs and lifts the bottle to his lips. He gulps down the rest of the water then wipes his hand across his mouth. “I’m okay-- just needed a breather.” He _is_ feeling better after sitting still, but now that they stopped, he's realizing he kind of needs to take a leak...

Picking at the label on the empty bottle, he wiggles his ass on the sun-warmed rock. 

Sam narrows his eyes when he sees Dean press his legs together. “...Dean?” 

“ _Hm?_ ” Dean says, his eyes closed. The feeling grows so he crosses his ankles before lowering the bottle down to his lap so he can press one hand against his crotch. He wants to rock back and forth, but he knows it would give away his situation so he refrains. 

“Dean.” 

Still refusing to meet his brother’s questioning gaze, Dean uncrosses his legs and bends forward, over his lap. He's starting to think Sam may have planned this all along--he's been plying Dean with water all day- and _that_ , plus the bouncy horse ride, has Dean feeling increasingly desperate. 

“Dean...look at me.” 

Biting his lip, Dean opens his eyes to find Sam crouched in front of him. 

Sam slides his hands up Dean's calves. He traces the backs of his knees before grasping Dean's muscular thighs in his hands. “How bad?” he asks, his pupils dilated with lust. 

“Uh, not too bad-" Dean lies through his teeth, "--Maybe a... _six_?” 

“A _six_ , huh?” Sam doesn’t believe him, but he intends to take advantage nonetheless. “Well, then, I think we should probably keep going. Don't you?” 

“Going...?” Dean gulps.

Sam doesn't break eye contact as his strong hand curls over Dean's hip. Dean gasps when Sam uses the pads of his fingers to gently press down on his bladder.

“ _Mhmm..._ we have to have the horses back by three-" He leans forward to kiss along his brother's jawline. "--and it’s almost one-forty-five now.” 

When Sam starts kneading his knuckles gently into the skin just above his waistband, Dean licks his lips. “Uh, sure. Just... give me five minutes, ‘kay?” He nudges Sam out of the way so he can stand, planning to walk over to the trees, but Sam’s deep voice stops him. 

“ _Oh, no, big brother_ \--y _ou’re_ _going to hold it._ ” 

Cursing himself because he once again fell for one of his brother's oldest tricks, Dean turns around to sigh, “Sam, I can't...” 

Sam walks over to Meg, whose munching on shrubbery. He knows Dean can see the erection he's currently sporting, yet also knows that his big brother won't admit how badly he needs to go until it's too late. “You said it was a _six_ \-- Right?” 

_Oh no_... Dean is well acquainted with the devilish look in Sam's eyes right now. It doesn't bode well for him. “ _Right,_ ” he grits out through clenched teeth. 

Sam smirks as he mounts his horse but schools his features before he faces his brother. “Then you should be able to hold it. _Unless_... you're saying you _can't_?” 

Knowing it's a dumb decision but unwilling to sacrifice his pride, Dean strides over to Hercules and swings up into the saddle in one fluid motion. He tries to ignore the resulting spurt of hot piss into his panties. “‘Course I can,” he says instead. It takes him a few seconds to cut off the flow, but he manages. 

At first, he thinks that maybe he _will_ be able to make it back to the stables without wetting himself, but then, after the third time Hercules slides in the loose dirt leading them along the lake's edge, Dean knows he's screwed. 

“Sammy-” he says, hunching forward in the saddle to relieve some of the pressure. 

“Yes, Dean?” Sam says innocently, twisting around so he can see his brother. 

“--I really gotta go...” 

Sam hides his smirk as he slowly eases Meg to a stop. “How bad?” 

Dean huffs. “I don’t know, dude! Like a nine, maybe?” 

“...a nine? Are you sure?” 

Feeling more like a chastised child than he prefers, Dean snarls at him. “ _Yes, Sam_. _I’m sure_.” 

Fully aware he’s treading on his brother’s last thread of patience, Sam smiles softly. “Okay, Dean-- How about this? If you make it back to stable _without_ pissing yourself, I’ll fuck you on the balcony while Mister and Misses Grey Hair have their evening chat.” 

They’ve only been staying at the hotel for two days, but Dean already noticed that there is a couple who comes to sit out on the patio every evening. It's the same older couple, at _exactly_ the same time, for the last two nights. They sit there for over an hour talking about the weather, their grandchildren, the state of the economy, her knitting, his fishing... And Dean finds it almost as compelling as a good TV show, so he opted to sit out on the balcony above them so he could eavesdrop. 

Sam's offer piques his interest, but while the thought of almost giving the older couple a heart attack from seeing him and Sam naked together gives Dean a dangerous thrill, he also knows his little brother. And with Sammy, there’s always a catch. 

“...and if I don't?” he asks warily, wondering just how sadistic Sam is feeling today. 

“If you can’t hold it until we get back, you have to..." Sam hums, pretending to think up a punishment. "...watch me pleasure myself tonight." He pauses for emphasis. " _No touching... No speaking... and no coming._ ” 

_Fuck_. Dean swallows, though his jeans tighten a little at the thought of Sam tormenting him-- Dean's always been a little masochistic. Which is a good thing, because he _knows_ that there is no way he can hold out until they get back. His bladder seconds this thought by sending a warning tingle down the length of his shaft. He's already spurted a few times into his underwear thanks to the trail they're on. 

However, the temptation of having Sam fuck him in full view of the rest of the resort is too delicious...

Steeling his resolve to last for the next hour and a half without fully wetting himself- _and Hercules_ -, Dean gives a firm nod. _“...Deal.”_


	6. Chapter 6

By the time the stable is in view, Dean’s about to burst. He had to undo the top two buttons on his jeans about fifteen minutes ago and the front of his panties is damp beneath them. He’s still sitting upon Hercules- trying to keep from embarrassing himself- while Sam walks Megara back over to her owner so he can brush her down before returning the expectant mother back to her stall. 

Sam glances at his brother over the older man’s shoulder, not hearing a word the guy says. 

Dean’s obviously about to lose it. His posture is stiff though he’s bowed over the front of the saddle and Sam can just make out the slight shake in his leg while he bounces in his seat. 

Dean’s clenching the saddlehorn so tightly in his fist that his knuckles are white. He’s gone straight past desperate and into  _ If I don’t get off this horse in the next two minutes, Hercules is going to get a different kind of bath… _

When the throbbing sensation at the base of his dick intensifies, Dean has no choice but to shove his hand down his pants. He slides back and forth in the saddle, his eyes clenched shut as he tries in vain to arouse himself. It isn’t that he doesn’t find this all very exciting- the thought of having an honest-to-God accident in front of a total stranger can usually make him blow his load- but the need to piss is too strong. 

Finding Sam watching him with a knowing look on his face, Dean shifts a little to the left readying to dismount. He’s going to have to do it in one move if he has any chance at all…

_ One… _

_ Two… _

_ Three!  _

Dean slides his leg over Hercules back to land clumsily in the dirt. The jolt travels up from the soles of his boots to his tensed leg muscles and finally, to his gut. With a desperate groan, Dean doubles over. His legs crossed and his hands shoved into his crotch, he sounds like a woman in labor as he pants noisily. 

Across the small yard, Sam sees this and hurries over to him. “Dean?!” 

Dean glances up at him, his face in a pained grimace as he fights to hold on. “ _ Oh, fuck. I-I can’t do it, Sammy. God, it hurts so fucking bad… _ ” 

__ Watching a tear drip down Dean’s cheek, Sam moves so he’s blocking Dean from the view of the stables. “Stand up.” 

Dean groans, “Shit Sammy--I don’t think I  _ can… _ ” 

“Dean, I’m going to let you relieve a little bit of the pressure,  _ but _ first, you have to  _ stand up _ .” While Dean very slowly, inch-by-inch, rises from his folded over position, Sam takes in the state of his jeans. There’s a small dot spot just to the right of his button fly. 

“Don’t let anymore out,” he commands, taking Hercules’s reins into his hand. “You have to stay right like that until I get back and then, I’ll let you go for twenty seconds. But if you move, not only will you have to continue to hold it until you piss yourself, but you’ll watch me take a nice long leisurely piss before we leave.” 

Dean’s too busy focusing on not wetting himself to respond verbally, but he nods to let Sam know he heard him. 

“Good. Now, stay here-” Sam says, leaning forward to give Dean a quick peck. “I’ll be right back.” With that said, he calls out to Hercules then leads him toward the stables. 

Dean clenches his thighs together as tightly as he can, fisting his hands at his sides. Sam didn’t tell him he couldn’t grab himself, but the rule is one of Sam’s favorite ways to torture Dean so he decides not to take any chances. 

Speaking of Sam… the little bastard is chatting with the horses’ owner now, chuckling while they talk about the parade going on next week. 

Dean bites his lip hard enough to draw blood. 

_ Think about something else. Let's see… uh, Sam looks pretty damn good in those jeans. And his hair is loose and flowy. God, wanna stick my fingers in it… _

The arousal takes the edge off of his desperation so Dean continues. 

_ Wanna grab a fistful of that hair, yank his head back while I pound his pretty little ass. Mmm, nice and pert-- fucking begging to be slapped…  _

Sam walks up while Dean's eyes are still closed so he reaches from behind to undo Dean's belt. 

There's no one out here now that the horse's owner went back inside. 

"You did so good for me, big brother," he says, moving in front of Dean. "And I meant what I said-- Twenty seconds." 

Dean watches, rapt, as Sam kneels in front of him. "Sammy, what are you…" he trails off when Sam unzips his jeans and pulls his dick out. 

When Sam wraps his lips around it and teases the slit with his tongue, Dean can't hold back a groan. 

He widens his stance and checks over his shoulder before sliding one hand into that long, lush hair and letting go. 

Dean tries to keep track of the seconds but he's too far gone in the feeling of his brother's lips on his cock. 

Sam hums around Dean's dick, gulping rapidly to try to keep up with the desperate flow. He's pretty sure it's over twenty seconds when he finally taps Dean's leg, but who the fuck cares. 

Sam wants to get his brother back to the lodge  _ now  _ and fuck him until neither one of them can move. 


	7. Chapter 7

Dean doesn’t make it to the room. 

“Fuck off, Sam.” 

Sam leans against the closed bathroom door and sighs. “Dean, it’s not that big of a deal.” 

“Says you!”

“I don’t get it, man. You like wetting yourself…”

The door swings open, and Dean glares at his brother before storming past. He has his jeans balled up in his hands and a fresh pair of boxers on, the flimsy panties he’d been wearing earlier still hidden in his jeans. 

He angrily tosses his clothes onto the floor near his suitcase then flops on the bed. He covers his face with his hands and mumbles something unintelligible. 

Sam walks over to him and sits down. “If it bothers you, why didn’t you say anything?” 

Dean rolls over onto his side, tangles his fingers with his brother’s. “It’s not that I don’t like piss stuff-- I do. It’s just, you know… usually, it’s just you and me, but out there-- God, Sammy, everyone on the street saw it happen!” 

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration, Dean.” 

He huffs. “Okay--fine! It was only like…  _ fifteen  _ people, but still!” 

Sam leans back until he’s resting on his elbows, almost eye-level with his brother. “So, what? You just want to stay in here and pout for the rest of the trip?” 

“What? No!” 

“So, then why don’t you come out on the balcony with me and watch the sunset…” Sam murmurs, leaning over to kiss Dean’s stubbled cheek as one of his hands travels down to cup Dean through his boxers. 

Dean blushes and closes his eyes, the sting of embarrassment still making him shy. “Sammy, stop…” 

“What? You don’t want me to do  _ this _ …?” Sam squeezes Dean’s cock through his shorts, smirking when Dean groans. 

Dean takes a few moments to compose himself before he speaks. “You keep it up, and we’re gonna miss the sunset…” 

“Oh, no, we’re not,” Sam chuckles. He stands up and hauls Dean after him, leading him onto the balcony. 

At first, they each take one of the Adirondack chairs, but once Sam determines they’re sturdy enough, he pulls Dean onto his lap. 

Dean grumbles and pretends to hate it, but Sam knows better. As much as his brother claims to hate so-called ‘chick-flick moments’, he craves soft, sweet affection. The easiest way to get Dean to do anything is to promise copious amounts of snuggling afterward. 

“We should do this more often,” Dean sighs, leaning his head back on Sam’s shoulder. Their fingers are laced over his bare stomach, Sam’s thumb rubbing soothing circles into his skin. 

“Mhmm,” he agrees. 

The sun has almost reached the horizon by the time Dean starts wiggling in Sam’s lap. Sam groans and tells him to knock it off. 

“I can’t,” Dean mumbles, “I gotta take a leak.” He tries again to wriggle free from Sam’s hold, but Sam tightens his grasp. “Sam… c’mon. I gotta go. Let me up.” 

Sam nuzzles Dean’s neck, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses. “I’m comfortable.” 

“Well, yippee for you. I’m not.” 

“I mean it, Dean. Stop moving.” 

“I told you, I can’t! I’m about to piss myself, dude!” 

“I’m not letting go so you’re just going to have to deal with it,” Sam says, closing his eyes. He’s about ready for a nap after being in the sun and riding the horses. There’s just one thing… 

“Mmmm…” Sam groans as he relaxes fully and pisses his jeans. It’s a slow, but steady trickle that’s mostly absorbed by the denim, but after a minute or so, Dean notices. 

He shifts so he’s lying mostly on top of Sam, their groins pressed together. He kisses Sam hard while his palm rubs over the wet denim, teasing Sam just enough to make him gasp, but not enough that it cuts off the flow. 

“Mmm, feels so good, Dean…” 

“So fucking hot, Sammy,” Dean gasps into Sam’s ear before tugging on his earlobe. “Think I may just have to join you…” 

Sam groans at the image of Dean wetting himself and reaches out to cup his dick through his boxers. “Fuck, Dean-- Do it. Piss on me.” 

Dean’s desperate enough that it doesn’t take long before the front of his boxers are wet and warm liquid is gushing onto Sam’s hand. 

He leans down to suck on his brother’s neck as he pees, pleasure coursing through his body as he fumbles with Sam’s jeans. 

Sam must have the same idea because he’s pulled Dean’s boxers down far enough to free his pissing cock. He runs his hand over the head and down the thick shaft, using the piss as makeshift lube. 

He encircles Dean’s dick with his fist and slowly slides it down until it’s pressing firmly against the base, his knuckles providing steady pressure on Dean’s bladder. 

Dean gasps and quickly scrambles off the chair so he can drench Sam’s shirt with the last of his urine. He grabs a fistful of Sam’s hair as he swings his dick to spray it. “Fuck...Sammy…” he moans, leaning down to kiss Sam once again. 

Sam’s own dick is rock hard, bobbing against his belly as he rubs his hands over his piss-soaked shirt and lap. The smell, the taste, the feel of their wet clothes… It’s too much.

Sam lunges out of the chair. He slams Dean into the wall, their dicks rubbing together as they kiss wildly. 

His fingers delve between Dean’s ass, circling and prodding his hole until he presses one digit through the ring of tight muscle. 

With Sam’s finger in his ass, Dean grunts and lifts his leg to wrap around Sam’s. “Want you to fuck me, Sammy…” he says, breathily. 

Sam walks them backward until Dean’s back is pressed into the railing. He turns Dean suddenly, pushing his belly into the bar so Sam can see his beautiful ass. He kneels behind Dean, desperate to taste. 

He uses tiny, barely-there kitten licks at first, teasing Dean with the promise of more. 

Dean white-knuckles the railing, uncaring whether anyone sees them or not. Hell, the cops could show up, and he still wouldn’t let Sam remove his talented tongue. 

“Taste so good, Dean. Gonna eat you all up and make you cum off my tongue. You want that, baby? You want to blow your load while my tongue’s in your ass?” 

Dean groans. “ _ Fuck _ .”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Sam chuckles, rubbing his nose along Dean’s crack before he dips his head to suck on Dean’s cute little pucker. 

Dean cries out when his knees buckle, but Sam holds him up. He lets excess saliva flow onto Dean’s hole-- it makes a deliciously dirty sound that makes precome ooze from his slit. 

The railing is pressing into his chest painfully, but Dean only spreads his legs further apart and reaches back to shove Sam’s face in his ass. 

“Shit! Do that again,” he moans when Sam’s talented tongue teases him from the inside. 

Sam pulls back to chuckle softly before he opens his mouth wide and shoves his tongue back through the ring of muscle. He curls the tip so he can lick over the rim, then brings his hand down on his brother’s bare ass cheek. 

When his teeth brush over Dean’s taint, the older man rises up on his tiptoes with an aroused hiss. 

“Keep your hands off that nice fat cock, big brother. I wanna see you come hands-free tonight...” Sam peppers his skin with random kisses and little nips before he clears his throat noisily and spits directly on Dean’s twitching hole. 

Dean grunts when two of Sam’s fingers shove into him with no preamble, fucking hard and fast. 

He bites the side of his fist as ropes of his cum travel through the wrought iron railing to land on the patio below. 

Feeling the edge of his orgasm approach, Sam quickly stands and shoves Dean onto his knees. He forces Dean’s lip apart on his cock then grabs the back of his head. 

The brutal pace triggers Dean’s gag reflex almost immediately and saliva drips from his chin. 

Sam is too close, though, to think about anything other than reaching the finish line. 

Just as Dean is sure he’s about to puke all over his brother, Sam groans, and his cock pulses on Dean's tongue. 

Dean dutifully swallows every last drop. 

However, when it hits his freshly jostled and mostly-empty stomach, it shoots back up his throat, and he coughs it up onto the balcony.

He spits twice to clear his mouth then accepts the hand his brother holds out.

Sam smirks before wrapping his arm around his brother's waist. "Amateur." 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sammy's got something up his sleeve...

Sam has something special planned for today. Something he’s been wanting to try for a long time, but never had the courage to ask Dean to do for him. 

He wakes up before Dean and uses the facilities before grabbing a quick shower and getting dressed. He goes casual today, a pair of jeans, a comfortable long-sleeved tee, one of his plaid shirts that complements the swirling green and grey in his eyes, and his boots. 

A fond smile teases his lips as he pauses to watch his brother sleep. 

Dean’s lying on his back for once, instead of his regular belly-down-ass-up position, so Sam can silently drool over the brazen display of his no-demons-allowed tattoo and muscled chest. His legs are sprawled underneath the sheets, but Sam can see a small wet spot that suggests his morning wood is already standing at attention and ready for duty. 

Giving in to the temptation regardless of the presence of morning breath, Sam supports himself on his hands so he can bend down to kiss his brother’s soft lips. 

Dean’s lips smile beneath his a moment before familiar calloused fingers caress Sam’s freshly-shaven cheek. 

“Where ya goin'?” he mumbles, still mostly asleep. 

Sam smirks. Sleepy Dean is his favorite-- adorable and soft. 

“I’m gonna go pick up some breakfast.” 

A hand scratches at the exposed tattoo. “You want me to come with?” Dean asks, yawning. It’s obvious that what he wants is to roll over and go back to sleep, but he’s being nice for Sam’s sake. 

Sam reaches out to card his fingers through Dean’s sleep-messy hair. “Nah, you stay here and sleep in. You earned it, cowboy.” 

Dean snorts. “Sounds good to me...” 

Sam walks over to the door, but he stops when Dean speaks up from the bed. 

“Don’t forget your key, bitch. You get locked out, I ain’t getting up to let you in.” 

“Sure thing,  _ jerk _ .” 

When Sam finally convinces himself-  _ and his own morning wood- _ to leave his nearly naked brother, he makes a quick stop at the front desk. 

“Mornin’, Margie.” 

“Oh! Good morning, Sam. How are you?”

Sam dons his concerned face. “Well, I’m okay, but uh, Dean...he’s not doing so hot.” 

Margie’s brow creases. “Oh, no. Is there anything I can do?” 

“Actually, yeah, I think so.” He leans forward conspiratorially. “See-- I think it’s the food.” Sam can see her feathers ruffling, so he quickly continues, “It’s so rich, Dean’s having a little uh,” he blushes prettily, “ _ bathroom issue _ .” 

The woman nods knowingly. “That does tend to happen if you aren’t used to this kind of fare…” She lowers her voice to a whisper. 

“Is he a little  _ backed up _ ?” 

Sam cringes before nodding. “Yeah... The poor guy is miserable.” Her face pinches sympathetically. Sam knows he’s got her hooked. 

“So, I was wondering if there’s somewhere nearby where I can pick up something to help him out?” 

“Oh, of course-- There’s a shop right down the street called Herman’s. You should be able to find what you need there. And if that doesn’t work, you can always try prunes. My grandmother swore by them.” 

Sam patted her hand. “Thank you so much.” 

  
  


The small pharmaceutical shop is clean and neat without seeming sterile. The walls are lined with shelves that hold the remedy to any malady one might come across. 

After asking the head pharmacist where he can find the gastrointestinal aids, Sam scans the boxes until he finds one he thinks may work. 

He’s been fairly thorough in his research, but he also checks with the older man regarding dosage, side effects, and how long it may take to kick in once ingested. 

The ingesting part isn’t hard, in Dean’s case. He’s a glutton who will eat just about anything you put in front of him, but Sam still opts for the kind laced with chocolate. The chocolate will be easy to hide in a pastry from the bakery next door or melt in Dean’s morning cup of coffee. 

According to the box, his brother should start feeling mild effects tonight but nothing too debilitating until it’s been in his system for at least twenty-four hours. 

After leaving the drugstore, Sam stops by the small general store to pick up a case of bottled water, a package of wet wipes, a few of his brother’s favorite foods, and a small birthday cake for later. 

Then, he takes all of his purchases back to the lodge along with the omelets, coffee, and danishes he picked up for breakfast. 

Luckily, when he gets back, Dean is in the shower so he quickly shoves the case of water under the bed and places the food on the table. He slips one square of the laced chocolate into the center of the chocolate croissant and another in Dean’s coffee before walking into the bathroom. 


	9. Chapter 9

Dean places his hands on the shower wall and dips his head to let the water run down his back. Smoothing his hands over his head, he quickly rinses out the shampoo then grabs the bar of soap. 

When he passes it over his belly, he feels a strong twinge in his bladder. 

Loving how fucking full he feels since he hasn’t broken the seal yet this morning, Dean cradles his gut in one hand and strokes his cock with his other. He’s still holding the soap, so the suds slick the path. 

Enjoying his lazy jerk-off session, Dean doesn’t rush it. 

He tweaks one nipple and pre-come spurts from his dick along with piss. The action elicits a horny groan that echoes in the small bathroom. 

The door opens and he hears Sam enter, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, he lets himself go, groaning loudly as he fucks his fist nice and deep.

His arousal spikes when Sam pisses a nice steady stream into the toilet. 

His bladder aches with need, and he intends to relieve the pressure, but first… 

With a low growl, he comes into his cupped hand. Then, he immediately widens his stance and aims his dick at the tile wall. Golden piss streams down it as Dean marks the entire wall waist-level and down with his morning urine. 

Which is right about the time Sam flushes the toilet and Dean yelps as the temperature of the water changes. 

“Sonofabitch!” 

Sam smirks before leaving the bathroom. 

When Dean exits a few minutes later, he scowls at Sam and pops him one on the back of his head. 

Sam barely manages not to spill his coffee on himself. 

“Ouch! What the hell, Dean?” 

“Oh,  _ you know _ exactly what that was for,” Dean scoffs, digging through his duffle to find a clean pair of underwear and his jeans. 

He chews on his lip as he considers his options. In one hand, he holds a plain black pair of boxer briefs, but in the other…

Shrugging, he slips on the tight, black, cotton boyshorts with the flames on the ass and pulls up his jeans. Buttoning them up, he grabs his black tee-shirt then joins Sam at the table. 

The food smells wonderful, but first, he takes a healthy swig of his still-piping hot coffee. “Mmmm.” He moans, closing his eyes as the hot beverage travels down his throat and into his belly. 

Sam chuckles softly across from him. “Good?” 

Dean takes another drink from the cup before answering, “Yeah.”

“So,” he asks, reaching for one of the croissants and taking a big bite. “What’s the plan for today?” 

Sam grimaces when he glances up to see melted chocolate smeared around Dean’s mouth, but then, he remembers what else is in the croissant. 

His dick swells in his jeans. 

“I don’t know,” he says, shrugging, “I thought we could just hang around here today-- Maybe watch a few movies or go for a swim in the heated pool?” 

“You sure? I thought you wanted to check out that book shop down the road?” 

Dean gulps down half of his coffee and finishes off the croissant then reaches for one of the styrofoam containers. 

He opens it, makes an exaggerated gagging noise, and slides it in front of Sam before he peeks in the other. 

It isn’t hard to tell which is Dean’s and which is Sam’s-- one is loaded with bacon, cheese, potatoes, onions, and ham, and the other, an egg white omelet, is stuffed with peppers, tomatoes, avocado, spinach, and turkey bacon. 

The self-proclaimed ‘Meat Man’ immediately digs into his loaded omelet, groaning around each bite that he shovels into his mouth. 

Sam chooses to take his time, enjoying each bite of tender vegetables and fluffy egg white in between sips from his chai tea. 

“I do still want to stop in there before we leave, but after riding the horses yesterday, I could use a rest day.” 

“Alright, but how are we gonna do that? There’s no TV in this place, and I’m fairly certain I didn’t see any video rentals anywhere nearby.” 

Sam rolls his eyes. “I brought my laptop, Dean. And I have quite a few movies loaded onto it. So, it should last us for a while.” 

“Oh. Right,” Dean says, blushing. He stands up and starts walking to the bathroom, saying, “Alright, you choose what we watch first. I gotta hit the can.” 

As soon as the door shuts behind his brother, Sam smirks.  _ Little does he know how much time he’s about to spend in there…  _


	10. Chapter 10

Sam keeps a careful mental tab of Dean’s bathroom trips and how much water he’s drinking during their movie marathon. After all, this is supposed to be enjoyable, not painful. 

As soon as his brother finishes off his current bottle of water, Sam pulls out the next. 

Dean huffs, “C’ mon, Sammy...can’t I have a beer? I’ve drunk, like, six bottles of water, dude…” 

Sam shakes his head. “Nope. You can either have water or nothing.” 

_ “...bitch,” _ Dean grumbles under his breath. 

Sam gives him a hard look. “I’m sorry-- what was that?” 

Dean has the decency to look abashed. He plays it off, though. 

“I said, I have an itch. Damn thing’s drivin’ me crazy.” 

They both know Dean’s full of shit, but Sam decides to humor him. “Where at?” he asks. 

“Uh, it’s in the middle of my back.” 

When Sam scratches lightly on the indicated spot, Dean groans happily. “Aw, yeah...right there…” 

Sam curls his fingers so his nails dig in a little more, and Dean drops his head to his chest. 

“Mmm, damn Sammy, you’ve been holding out on me…” he mumbles, feeling sleepy with how content he is. 

Sam reaches behind his back for the bottle of water Dean refused a few minutes ago. He quickly drops it in Dean’s lap before he resumes the gentle scratches. 

When Dean opens his mouth to protest, Sam adds a few soft kisses to the back of his neck. 

By the second movie, Dean's visited the bathroom three times and unbuttoned his pants. 

Sam, meanwhile, has resorted to keeping a pillow on his lap to hide his straining erection. 

"Must've been expecting the audience to bring their damn night vision goggles," Dean grumbles, "Can't see shit…" 

Sam will admit the scene could do with better lighting, but it isn't like Dean to worry about an abundance of shadows when there is a naked couple on the screen. 

He figures the laxative must be kicking in, and that's why Dean is being so nitpicky. He's always bitchy when he isn't feeling well. 

When Dean starts squirming, it prompts Sam to ask, “You okay? I can pause it if you need to go…” 

Dean glares before a sudden cramp makes him wince. “I dunno…” 

His erection fading slightly, Sam scoots towards his brother and wraps an arm around him. “Do you feel sick?” he asks, genuinely worried. He thoroughly researched laxatives before buying them, but maybe, he overlooked something. 

Dean shrugs. “Not exactly. Just...really full.” He groans and lays down so his head is in Sam’s lap. “Feel like ‘m gonna explode…” he says with a grunt. 

Reaching his hands down to Dean’s fly, Sam pulls the flaps further apart. Dean lets out a sigh. 

Hoping it is just built-up gas, Sam gently presses his hand down on Dean’s belly and rubs circles over his taut skin. 

They are about halfway through the movie when Dean’s stomach starts to vocalize its growing discomfort. 

Every few minutes, it whines loudly and Sam brushes his thumb over the pale expanse in an attempt to soothe it. It’s been working up to this point, but with a pained expression and a disturbing predecessorial gurgle, Dean’s situation goes from bad to worse. 

He sits up so fast he almost knocks Sam out, clutching at his abdomen and gritting his teeth. A heaviness sinks lower into his gut, and Dean whimpers before clenching his asshole and rushing into the bathroom. 

He doesn’t bother with the door, instead, heading straight for the john as he feels his bowels loosen in preparation. Shoving his pants and underwear down, he barely gets his ass on the cold porcelain before it starts pouring out of him. 

His asshole burns with the force of it, and he cries out in pain. “Sonofabitch!” 

As soon as Sam hears his brother’s agony, he forgets about the movie still playing and joins him in the bathroom. 

He kneels in front of the toilet and smooths his hand over Dean’s back when his brother clings to him. 

“Oh, God...the h-hell was in that omelet?” Dean moans. His ass releases another torrent of liquid into the bowl, and he shudders. 

“Easy…” Sam coaches. 

He feels guilty beyond belief. Guilty for having caused his brother so much pain. Guilty for wanting to try this in the first place. Guilty for not telling Dean. 

And damn guilty for feeling like he’s gonna blow his load while Dean moans and pants on his shoulder. 

Because Sam’s dark, horny, twisted little mind is getting off on this. Every disgusting squirt and pathetic whimper quickens his heart rate. 

Then, without warning, the water he’s been forcing down his brother’s gullet all day suddenly splashes down his front. 

Sam gasps and freezes. His fingers dig into Dean’s back when his cock spasms and dampens the front of his jeans. 

Dean belatedly snatches up the small trash can to belch up another stream of clear liquid. 

Spitting to clear his mouth, Dean doesn’t lift his head when he mumbles, “Sorry…” 

“No. It’s--It’s okay. Don’t uh, don’t w-worry about it.” Sam’s voice sounds shaky and breathless to his own ears so he can only imagine what Dean must hear. 

Sure enough, Dean raises his head and narrows his eyes. “Sammy,” he says, sniffling miserably.

Sam turns his head to hopefully hide his blush. “Yeah?” 

Dean spits into the can. “Did you...just... _ cum _ ?” he asks, a weak smirk on his lips.

“...Maybe?...Are you mad?” 

Dean snorts. “You are one dirty fucker.” His insides seem to be done rebelling, for now, so he sets the can down and reaches for the toilet paper. 

“Takes one to know one...” Sam winks and pulls his brother into a sloppy kiss, not caring that Dean’s still wiping his ass. 


End file.
